Entrances
by Garnet Seren
Summary: Image is everything, my dear. And one must simply know how to make an entrance... A brief, Inquisition oneshot featuring Dorian, Ellana Lavellan and the Iron Bull, doing what they do best. Stirring up trouble at the Empress' ball. More info in the Author's Note, at the end of the story. FYI written in UK English, not US.


**Entrances**

Light refracted and reflected from a million faceted crystals. Gilded woodwork shone like the embers of a fire, and the two toned marble floor was polished like the surface of a wet, river pebble. Begrudgingly, Ellana had to admit it was an exquisitely appointed room, and could see how the shems and city elves would be impressed. However, she found her nose wrinkling in disdain at the sight. _'Give me a forest any day'_ she thought wistfully, trying not to fidget in her corseted dress. That was another thing she was regretting about this whole farce... the clothing. How she longed for the comfort of her familiar mage robes. Even the formal military attire that Josephine had suggested would have been welcome compared to this ridiculous gown. Unfortunately, both Leliana and Lady Vivienne had argued against the suits, and won. Though thankfully, the spy master had appropriated Ellana a sleek, red dress with a concealed slit up the side. Perfect if she needed to run anywhere tonight, and certainly a lot more practical than the poofy, froufrou numbers the other women seemed to be wearing. It was merely a coincidence that Solas' eyes had lit up when he had seen her in it before they had left Skyhold.

"And just what exactly am I supposed to do anyway?" Ellana muttered under her breath, nervously twiddling a curled lock of her violet-grey hair.

"Inquisitor, allow me to demonstrate," Dorian smiled enigmatically before donning a bejewelled half-face mask.

Unable to dampen down her curiosity, she leant on the balustrade at the top of the staircase, glad that her own ornate mask currently hid her identity. Intently, she watched her friend languidly strut to the head of the stairs. The light from the chandeliers caught the subtle sheen of his expensive, black velvet, tight fitting suit. The tailoring was cut in a way that made his rear look magnificent... really, she should know. Ellana _had_ spent a full fifteen minutes checking it from every angle before Dorian would take her word on it, after all.

"Introducing, Lord Dorian Pavus," the court's clerk announced. "Member of the Circle of Virantium, son of Lord Magister Halward Pavus of Asariel."

With a flourish, Dorian flipped one side his silk scarf over the opposite shoulder. The apricot colour contrasting beautifully with the black velvet, and complimenting the rose gold and amber jewelled mask. Positively oozing confidence, he sauntered down the marble staircase. His posture perfect and head held high. To Ellana's slight surprise, he stopped at the foot of the stairs, turning himself so he was looking back up at her with a cryptic smile on his lips.

"Also Introducing, the Iron Bull," the clerk continued. "Leader of the famed mercenary company: Bull's Chargers... as the name might imply."

Snorting in amusement, Bull pushed himself away from the pillar he had been leaning against. "Show time, Boss," he grinned before walking down the staircase. As fetching as the Qunari looked in his red military jacket, because the attire Josephine had ordered was the _only_ formal thing Bull possessed, his size and bulk made it look like he was marching into battle instead of walking into a ball. Not that this evening was any less deadly than any of their previous fights, this one just had concealed weapons disguised as smiles.

"And now presenting, Lady Inquisitor Lavellan."

_'__Mala suledin nadas'_ she thought, smoothing out the silken fabric of her gown. It was only when she had made it down the first flight of steps, and curtsied to the Empress, that Ellana realised Bull was mirroring Dorian's stance on the opposite side of the staircase. _'What are those two up to?' _she wondered, gracefully descending the remaining stairs.

Smiling proudly, Dorian bowed gallantly to her, as did Bull. In perfect synchronicity, the two men smartly turned back towards the dance floor, and offered her an arm each. Ellana's raised eyebrow was mercifully hidden by her mask, though her smirk was most definitely not. _'It is a shame Solas is not here'_ she mused idly, as she sashayed across the floor. Though it seemed have two handsome men on her arm was certainly giving the so-called noble shems something to talk about, if the scandalised whispering and frantic fan waving were anything to go by.

"Now, my dear," Dorian began in a hushed, serious voice as they walked towards the Empress. "If you take nothing else away from tonight, remember... _always_ make an entrance."

* * *

**Author's Note**

**First &amp; foremost, dedicated to Lady Velvet C. Peterson. This oneshot was written as a birthday gift for her and was inspired by a conversation about Dorian and the Carly Simon song 'You're so Vain' (with the mask replacing the hat!). The Inquisitor is loose amalgamation of Velvet's two Lavellans!  
Apart from the song, the other inspiration was the thought that it was a little odd to see all the inquisition wearing the safe outfit. With what is known about Orlais, surely wearing matching outfits would be a great faux pas.  
'****Mala suledin nadas'**** (****mah-lah soo-leh-DEEN nah-DAS****) means 'Now you must endure'. See DA wiki for elvan language.**


End file.
